


but lets talk about you for a minute

by CallicoKitten



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), SPECTRE (2015)
Genre: Multi, Pining, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, it was absolutely criminal that christoph waltz only had twenty minutes of screen time, madeleine deserves a lot better than james "allergic to my emotions" bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 10:55:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5245682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallicoKitten/pseuds/CallicoKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things don't work out with Madeleine. This comes as a surprise to no one, including James, because honestly, "we met when her suicidal father set us up to find and kill an international criminal mastermind" isn't exactly the kind of story you want to tell your grandkids.</p><p>-</p><p>in which c's death really messes things up for everybody and bond will probably never get his happy ending, at least, not with madeleine</p>
            </blockquote>





	but lets talk about you for a minute

**Author's Note:**

> i feel like this started off as one story and ended up something very different
> 
> im pretty sure im gonna end up writing more about franz and james, those crazy kids.
> 
> title from los campesinos' in medias res

Things don't work out with Madeline. This comes as a surprise to no one, including James, because honestly, " _we met when her suicidal father set us up to find and kill an international criminal mastermind_ " isn't exactly the kind of story you want to tell your grandkids.

Not that kids have ever been an option.

It's great at first, it always is. Champagne and fast cars and soft, ridiculously expensive sheets. He takes great care not to tread the path he did with Vesper, keeps his brief forays into normalcy (or something like it) as separate as he can and they are different. _Oh,_ so different.

Madeline is soft in ways Vesper never was, hard in ways Vesper always wanted to be. But in the end she's not enough, or maybe she's too much. Either way, it ends on her terms. Maybe she realises she can do better than him, maybe she gets tired of the hours he spends watching the British intelligence system fall apart from their Monaco apartment, maybe she just gets bored.

And James drinks and gripes while she tuts and placates and pulls him out of the shady little bar he's found himself in. Tells him to go home and make things right. To just _stop running, James and deal with your life,_ she uses her psychiatrist voice to deliver that last part, the no nonsense teacher tone that makes James abruptly feel all of five years old.

He could scoff at her, tell her he doesn't have a home - never has really, there was Skyfall sure, that big empty house, always cold and rattling, then the Oberhauser's cabin, rickety and warm but they weren't homes. It was his parents that made Skyfall matter, Franz and his father. (It's a lie though and even James is self aware enough to recognise it. He's had a home since he's been at six, in Eve's smirk and Tanner's eagerness and Q's increasingly bizarre attempts at convincing them he's not some sort of tea consuming AI.)

He could even go one step further and bark at her, tell her he's a man grown and damned if he's going to listen to her. It plays out in his mind over and over again, he'll throw a tantrum and Madeline will roll her eyes, toss her golden head and stride out into the night.

He settles for an offended look and allowing her to lead him back to their home, to push him down onto the bed and drink the pint of water she offers.

"I'm going back to Switzerland," she tells him. He's rolled away, facing the window and maybe she thinks he's sleeping or maybe she just wants him to think she thinks he's sleeping. "Or maybe not. Maybe I'll start again somewhere."

She presses a kiss to his temple and James has the decency to keep his eyes closed. For appearances' sake, you know.

"Maybe you can look me up when you're more..." she pauses. _Mature,_ she wants to say, James thinks. _Together. Stable._ She doesn't finish, instead she presses another kiss to his temple. "Or maybe, I'll look _you_ up when I get bored."

She moves away then.

James has counted the number of steps there are between the bed and the bedroom door - force of habit. Five, he hears. Six it takes.

There is a sigh from the doorway and then, "In another life, James."

Twelve steps and the front door slams.

-                                  

C's death throws everything in to turmoil; James watches the chaos from miles away.

The head of their shiny new intelligence service, thrown to his death by the recently resigned head of their now defunct intelligence service, it plays out like the plot of a bad spy novel. Mallory is briefly arrested, released when C's connection to Blofeld and Spectre are revealed, rearrested when that evidence is suggested to be fraudulent. They bring in a neutral party to comb through the data but unfortunately for them C was rather adept at covering his tracks. There's nothing, no whisper of Blofeld in any of C's correspondences, no hint that he was part of something dark and sinister - outside of the regular day to day spying, of course.

The media throws around sensationalist headlines in lieu of the details they haven't been given but even with the specifics kept vague it's certainly the most public intelligence services disaster since - since, well, Silva. There are debates on the necessity of the intelligence services, outside of GCHQ at least, debates on what knowledge should and shouldn't be made available for the public.

The late M is quoted again and again and again and James wonders what it would do for public opinion if they knew the precise amounts of incidents the intelligence services have thwarted. If they knew that they only get to see the mistakes, the fuck ups.

(The monumental, society changing fuck ups but the fuck ups nonetheless.)

Britain falls into chaos, quiet, dignified, not at all noticeable chaos, but chaos nonetheless. M is put on trial. Eve and Q and Tanner, James assumes, are called to be witnesses, out of a job after all.

It's all so fucking neat in the end that James is half convinced this had been Blofeld's plan from the start.

James can only make this worse, he knows. It's not like he can speak in court and PR, as everyone has always been fond of pointing out, has never been his strong suit. That's why he stuck to the shadows after all, he wasn't recruited for his brains, more for his dashing good looks and ability to throw himself off roofs and into heavy gun fire without much forethought.

 _Yes, Bond,_ Q's voice is withering in the back of James' mind. _Thinking has never really been your forte, has it?_

-

In the end, it's Tanner that gets him back, Tanner who has never held any illusions about James' being some sort of fabled hero, yet for some reason clings to an unshakeable faith in him. It starts with a message to one of James three new mobiles. He's not particularly surprised that Six are still tracking him, he's come to expect it of them now and it's kind of nice in a vaguely creepy way, this way James knows that if ( _when,_ Eve's voice corrects) things go wrong he'll have someone to fall back on.

The message is unsigned but James knows it's Tanner, there's too little emotion for Eve and it's far too unprofessional for Q. _We need you,_ is all the message says.

Of course, this is back when James is still resolutely out of the spy game, when he and Madeline are spending their days at resorts and clubs and in bed, so James ignores it.

Tanner waits a dignified two weeks before texting again - _M has been arrested._

James stares at the words for what seems like hours but there's nothing he can do about that and there's certainly no point in texting Tanner his condolences. He ditches that mobile and spends a week skiing.

 _Blofeld is our only chance at getting M out of this,_ Tanner's next message, a week and a half later, says.

James rolls his eyes at this, _Q can deal with it_ , he texts back and ditches another mobile.

("That's not very gentlemanly, James," Madeline scolds, raking her nails across his chest.

James shudders, "If I were the gentlemanly sort, I don't think we'd be here right now, do you?"

She snorts and places a trail of open-mouthed kisses along his jaw.)

 _Q's hands are tied,_ Tanner texts, the next day. _Evidence inadmissible. He's being investigated too._

James thinks of Q standing by while agents go through every inch of his data, hopefully Eve is with him, or Tanner, or both, otherwise that smart mouth of his will get him into trouble. _If he's arrested,_ James thinks distantly, _who will feed his cats?_

Eve, his mind supplies immediately but that thought is accompanied by a buzz from his phone.

_Eve, too. They could be held as accessories._

He thinks of them in prison, Eve bright and shiny and holding her head high, Q shutting down, going dark. He thinks of M alone in a cell, memories of Ireland creeping up unabated and sighs. By this point, Madeline is long gone and he blames her absence for what he replies.

_What do you expect me to do about it_

Tanner's reply is instantaneous and James imagines him, sleeves rolled up and rumpled, leaning over his phone and chewing on his bottom lip. Hoping against hope.

 _Blofeld,_ Tanner replies. _He says he'll talk but only to you._

James is unsurprised. Franz's twisted need to ruin his life seems to no no bounds. Why Tanner is so convinced Franz is telling the truth, however, is another matter entirely.

Tanner though has apparently acquired the ability to read minds during James' absence because his next message reads: _I know there's no guarantee he'll give us anything useful but its worth a try._

James sighs and books himself a plane ticket to London.

-

Coming back is strange, part of him is expecting Tanner to meet him at the airport, take him to wherever the double-oh branch is holed up these days and walk him through his latest mission. He could slip back into Bond, James Bond and visit Q to pick up whatever toy he's picked out for him, flirt with Eve and torment Mallory a bit. Maybe even snark at C while M pretends to be disapproving.

As it is, Tanner still meets him at the airport, still talks his ear off on the drive into London. Fills him in on all the details the media hasn't covered in depth. Aside from Mallory's arrest they're (and Tanner's vague on just who _they_ may be) holding an ongoing committee to decide the future of the intelligence services. Tanner's cautiously hopefully 5 and 6 will be separated (as god intended) again and Q and Eve will get their jobs back. The double-oh program is another matter, one they can tackle when M's out of the woods, Tanner says.

"Oh good," Bond tells him. "Always nice to know your old job is possibly maybe going to be available again someday."

Usually, Tanner would ignore that remark, or maybe chuckle politely and go right on with his spiel but today he doesn't. Instead, he pauses, fixes James with an unreadable stare (and James always forgets that Tanner was and still is an accomplished spy, he's so used to thinking of him as nothing more than M's lapdog but right then, studying Tanner's face and gleaning nothing James remembers.)

This is when James realises something has changed. Something more than their world crumbling around them.

(James looks away first.)

-

His flat is much as he left it, though now a fine layer of dust covers everything. He finds Eve sprawled on his couch.

"Thank you, Eve," she says, without looking up.

"You really must stop talking to yourself, Eve."

"I was talking to you," she says, rolling off the couch gracefully. "I watered your plants," she says, when she straightens up.

"Oh, maybe open with that, next time."

Eve arches a brow, "You look well rested."

"You don't," James points out and she doesn't, for once, she doesn't. Her hair is beginning to frizz and there are dark circles under her eyes.

"You say the _sweetest_ things."

Tanner clears his throat from the doorway, "If you two are done flirting?"

This is the part where Eve should roll her eyes and James will wink. Tanner will shepherd them out of the flat like naughty children and Eve will mouth something ridiculous behind his back, but she doesn't. Instead, she nods shortly.

"I suppose Tanner's filled you in," she says, all business.

"He has."

"Excellent, so you know there's no time to lose."

They're back in the car before James has time to argue and James is beginning to wonder why they even touched base with Eve at all if the plan was always to whisk him away to wherever Blofeld's being held. "We've got to pick some things up from Q first," Tanner says. "We're not taking any chances on this."

-

Q branch looks a little more empty than it was when James was last here, Q's alone again tinkering with something at his desk. He doesn't look up when James strides in, "Ah. You got him then?" he says, presumably to Eve, "The recording devices are on the desk."

"Good afternoon to you too, Q," James says pointedly.

Q looks up at that, expression carefully blank, "Quite." he says, in measured tones.

Tanner's waiting in the car so it's Eve who takes over shepherding duties, taking James' arm and dragging him over to the table Q indicated. "I'm sorry," he says quietly to her. "Did I miss something? Is everyone extremely angry with me for some reason?"

Q answers for her, "Well, you did rather dump us in it, double-oh-seven." He mutters.

The tech Q's lined up for him is pretty basic stuff; another watch in case of emergency, a camera and a microphone hidden in a tie pie, a ring with hidden knock-out drug. James lets Eve dress him while he stares balefully at Q who pointedly ignores them.

"It's pretty simple," Eve is saying. "Obviously, there's no guarantee Blofeld will uphold his end of the bargain, even if you sing and dance for him he still might not go on record about C and there's no way we'll be able to admit anything we film covertly. We have cameras in the cell already, of course, but this might capture something they miss. We're hoping you'll be able to get him to give up something we can use though. Anything that might lead us to solid evidence."

"Got it, keep him talking. I'm good at that."

From across the room Q tuts.

James turns to him, "Sorry, something you wanted to add, Q?"

Q looks up and for a moment James knows he's considering staying quiet, evidentially though he thinks better of it, "You might want to take this a little more seriously, Bond."

"I'm perfectly serious."

" _Boys,_ "Eve scolds.

James drops it.

Eve stands on tip toes to press something into James ear, "Here," she says, "Now we'll be able to talk."

-

"Don't mind Q," Eve tells him, on the way back up to the car. "He's a bit stressed at the moment."

"I noticed," James tries not to sound bitter. _Tries._ "You people are aware that I didn't orchestrate this whole mess on purpose, aren't you?"

Eve smiles, "Yes, we are. But you've got admit it, Bond; you got the better deal out of this whole mess. You ride off into the sunset with a pretty girl and we get arrested and lose our jobs." She sighs, "The sooner this is over with, the better. I get my job back and the ability to online shop all night long, you get to go back to Dr Swann."

James says nothing.

-

They're keeping Blofeld in a prison of Q's own design. It's much like the one that held Silva, glass, highly secured and guarded by men picked by Tanner. Franz - Ernst - whatever his name is these days lights up when he sees James, "Little brother!" he purrs, "If you'd called ahead I would have tidied up."

His cell is empty but for built in plastic bed and a thin mattress yet still, he sits regally as though James should be impressed of a bare room and his ghoulish scars.

"Didn't have your new number."

"Darn, could have sworn I sent it to you. No matter, I suppose all that's important is that we found each other," he indicates the chair set an arm's length away from the cell.

"I hear you've been asking for me," James says, as he sits. "Did you really miss me that much?"

"Ooh, my little cuckoo. I merely wanted to make sure you were alright after our little _skirmish._ I hear you quit, ran off with dear, delectable Dr Swann. How is she, by the way?"

"She's fine," James deflects. "Better than you, at any rate."

Franz must catch something in that because he latches on with a scandalous gasp, "Trouble in paradise, James?"

"Did you really bring me here to talk about my personal life, Franz?"

Franz's grin vanishes, "No, I suppose not."

"Good," James sits forward. "Never been a fan of small talk myself."

Franz glances up the camera in the corner. "I assume your little friends are watching us?"

"You know they are."

Franz smiles again, almost wistfully, "Oh, how I wish I could give them a show. We're good at that, aren't we, you and I?" There's a heaviness in his tone, a heat in his eyes that James doesn't like but he's not about to let Franz know how uncomfortable this makes him.

"We're going to play a little game," Franz says, abruptly. "You answer one of my questions, I answer one of yours."

James glances up at the cameras two, then back to his would-be brother. Franz has nothing to gain from this, he won't be put on trial for years, if ever and even though James has no doubts he'll find his way out of Q's special prison eventually it won't be for a while. (James hopes anyway.) There's nothing he can get from James that'll help him, not much he can get that he doesn't already know judging from how long and how deeply their lives have been intertwined, but still, he's smiling smugly, like this is all going to plan.

"Why do this, Franz?" James asks, leaning forwards, because there must be something he's missing here.

He shrugs, "Boredom, maybe. I can do nothing to you from within this silly cell and it will take a good long while for the organisation to regroup - and they _will_ regroup, James - so for now I must take my entertainment where I can get it."

James sits back.

Franz giggles, "You don't believe me, do you? My, my, cuckoo, such trust issues. I wonder what they stem from?"

"You probably," James bites back.

Franz looks incredibly pleased at that, "Oh, come now! Water under the bridge, surely? I'll even be sporting and let you go first."

"I do this and you'll go on record about your connection to C?"

Franz makes a face, "I suppose that will depend on how _entertaining_ you are, little brother." He grins, "And remember, I'll know if you lie."

There's no point in dragging this out, James decides, Franz must know why he's here and what he intends to ask so he cuts right to the chase, "Tell me about C."

"Ah, dear Max," Franz leans back, folding one of his legs beneath him. "He was one of Silva's recruits, you know. Someone he knew from his days with your beastly organisation. Never met him myself but I heard nothing but good things about him."

"The Nine-Eyes initiative was your idea, I take it?"

Franz tsks, "That's not how we're playing, remember? You asked your question, I get to ask mine."

James sets his jaw.

"Tell me about what happened to you after my father died."

"You know what happened," James says.

"Well, _yes_. But I want to hear it from your point of view."

 _Don't break now, James,_ Eve buzzes in his ears. _You knew to expect this, you were ready._

And he did know on some level. This has always been about Franz showing him up, laying him bare in front of everyone he works with. It's ridiculous and petty and oddly, exactly the sort of thing James expected from Franz - international criminal mastermind or no.

James steadies himself, "I went back to Scotland for a while, then got shipped off to boarding school." He curls his hands into fists at his sides, "I looked for you for days." And he did. He hadn't been out on the mountain that day, hadn't know Franz and Hannes were either. He'd kept looking even after everyone else had given up hope.

Franz looks like he's expecting something more but James might have agreed to play Franz's stupid game but he certainly didn't agree to tell him all the gory details.

"So, the Nine-Eyes plan?" James prompts.

"All Max's idea," Franz says with a wave of his hand. "Of course, we had some input here and there. Developing it and ensuring those involved would be more _receptive._ But it was Max's idea long before he was involved with us. Yes, shocking, isn't it? That I am not the root of all evil? It was about _power_ , I think. But then, isn't it always?"

 _That's not helpful,_ Eve says.

Franz claps his hands, "My turn!" His eyes glint, "Tell me about Dr Swann, is she waiting for you in some exotic love nest?"

Franz will know if James lies.

"No. She left me."

Franz makes a show of looking disappointed, " _Such_ a shame! You two seemed made for each other!"

And so it goes, back and forth. Franz makes James go into detail about Vespa, about Madeleine, about his parents and Silva and M and James tries to keep the balance between being _entertaining_ and spilling his guts to a psychopath. Most of what Franz gives him in return is bland, an interesting titbit here and there about Spectre members and past operations, most of which Q had already gleaned, Eve tells him, but there are a few things worth investigating.

James leaves with a bitter taste in his mouth and the distinct impression Franz has won whatever game they were playing today. James stands when the guards knock on the door and straightens his suit, "Well, sorry to cut this short, but I've got places to be."

Franz arches a brow, "Have you, indeed?"

"So, have I been entertaining enough?" James asks, as he stands to leave.

There's something, very briefly, in Franz's eyes that looks like disappointment, "I haven't decided yet," he tells James playfully. "I'll have to consider it."

James seriously considers breaking into Franz's cell and breaking his neck ( _but,_ a voice that sounds oddly like Mallory's chimes in, _that might have been his plan all along. You're rash, Bond. Too rash. Maybe he was counting on it._ )  He looks again at his once-brother, smirking from behind a thick sheet of plastic.

 _Be the bigger man, James,_ Eve says in his ear, _We always knew this was a long shot._

-

Eve is waiting for him outside of Franz's cell. Rather hesitantly, she touches his arm, "I'm sorry, James."

-

In the end Mallory gets off, Five and Six are back to normal (James assumes anyway,) and James comes home one evening to find Tanner on his couch.  

"Yes, just let yourself in, Tanner. That's fine," he grumbles.

James has been avoiding them since his initial frosty reception. Mostly to wallow but also because James has never really been all that good with apologies - not when they really, truly matter anyway. (There's also this stubborn part of him that insists he did _nothing_ wrong and, in the long run, removing himself from Mi6 might actually be good thing for all involved!)

Tanner offers him a wry grin, "Sorry about dropping in unannounced. The boss sent me, you're three days late to work, you know."

James sighs, "Am I?"

Tanner hands him a thick dossier, "Double-oh-seven," he says, "Reinstated as of Tuesday along with the rest of the double-oh programme."

"You _shouldn't_ have," Bond mutters, leafing through his file. "I _retired_ , Tanner. Remember?"

Tanner gives a dismissive wave, "Come on, Bond. What are you going to do? Get a job? Flats like this don't just self-substantiate."

"I have savings," James says, indignant.

"Mm. Moneypenny and I have a bet on how long they'll last."

"I'm _flattered._ "

"Come along, M's waiting."

James only goes with Tanner because he knows how bloody tenacious the man is.

-

Since Vauxhall Cross is now thoroughly gone and C's glass monstrosity has been sold off, Six is back in their backup headquarters, dingy and dank under London. M's office looks like it always has and James steadfastly ignores the warm feeling spreading through his body, the one he'd call - for lack of a better term - _ah, that's better._

Eve smirks at him from her desk and James attempts to at least pretend he's here against his will.

"Double-ooh-seven," M says with a tight smile when James is shoved firmly through the door by Tanner. "So nice of you to finally join us."

"You know, when I'm expecting someone I generally make sure they know they're expected. Most of us don't have the ability to communicate telepathically. Unless Q's made some great leap while I was gone."

M makes a face, "No, I've banned him from fiddling with the laws of nature."

"Good call."

"So, as Tanner has no doubt informed you, your old position is available again and I thought, given the circumstances, you might be interested in rejoining us. Sorry about it didn't work out, by the way." He adds in what is clearly an afterthought.  "So, let's discuss your position with us."

-

Eve doesn't say anything when James re-emerges a half hour later, doesn't even look up from whatever she's typing and James is hurt until she lets herself into his apartment at midnight with a bottle of champagne.

"Have you people just done away with privacy completely?" He grumbles, retrieving two wine glasses from the kitchen.

"Pfft, _privacy._ Hasn't been much of that since the Cold War, James," she says, pouring herself a generous amount. "Anyway, how else was I supposed to water your plants?"

James is becoming increasingly convinced that he didn't actually own plants before he left for Mexico and that Eve slipped them in so she'd have an excuse to nose around when he wasn't there. Of course, he won't actually _tell_ Eve this just in case he's wrong and she decides he needs to be put through another round of psych evals.

"To old-new jobs," she says, raising her glass in a manner that indicates this definitely isn't her first drink of the night. (It isn't James' either but honestly, who's keeping track anymore?) "And pretend the past year didn't happen."

-

Things get back to normal alarmingly fast, he's put on a few low level missions and everyone knows this is just testing the waters, getting things back to the way they were. He stays close to home mostly, cleans up after Spectre and avoids Q like the plague.

Well, he doesn't _avoid_ Q because Q branch is still a very useful place and Tanner sends him there before every mission no matter how many excuses Bond tries to make (telepathically, of course, he's never been much of a whiner.)

Q is still very obviously angry with him and James is becoming increasingly on edge about it. He knows _logically_ that Q is too much of a pro to rig whatever new toys he's dreamt up to hurt James _seriously_ but after an unfortunate incident with a new watch prototype that gave him a nasty jolt every time he swore, it's harder to shake.

"We were friends once," he tries, one disastrous morning when Q (who usually gets one of his underlings to deal with James these days) is alone in his lab.

"No, James, we weren't," Q says curtly. "We worked together."

"You flew to Austria for me," Bond points out.

"Oh no," Q says. "No, I most certainly did not." He brushes past James, pausing to add, "Thank god for the Eurostar."

-

In desperation, he goes to Eve, his expert on all things Q.

"I'm sure he's not, James. You're just being paranoid," Eve says, over beers on the roof of James' building.

"No," James insists. "He's definitely angry."

Eve shrugs, "Well, he's never been angry with me for more than a few days before so you must have _really_ pissed him off." She looks away too quickly for James to miss and he narrows his eyes. She knows something and James is just beginning to formulate a plan to get her to spill the beans when she laughs abruptly.

"Last time he was mad at me," she says, in between giggles. "It was because I convinced a few of my friends in Q branch to install Windows 8 on his laptop. _God,_ I haven't seen him that angry since that intern bought the wrong food for Lovelace and Turing."

James stares at her.

She laughs, "Q's cats. You really don't know anything about us outside of work, do you? It wouldn't hurt, you know. Actually interacting with us socially. You might learn something."

"We're spies, Eve, "James points out. "We're not _meant_ to know a great deal about each other's lives."

Eve gives him a one-shouldered shrug, "Since when have the rules meant anything to you? Anyway, it can be useful."

"Useful?"

"Mm," she takes a swig of her beer. "For instance, did you know that in his youth, Tanner was in Shakespeare plays? Apparently he had a very good turn as Iago."

"The parrot from that Disney movie?" He snorts at Eve's disbelieving look, "I'm joking, Eve. I'm not _completely_ uncultured."

Eve starts to laugh, "It's not _that_. It's the thought of you having seen a _Disney_ film."

"It was a long flight," Bond grumbles.

" _Anyway,_ the point is," she pulls out her phone and starts taping away. "Tanner doesn't like people knowing that so I have leverage." She puts down her phone.

"I thought you were about to show me a video of his embarrassing stage antics," James says, trying to sound less disappointed then he actually is.

Eve smirks, "No, I was just passing the knowledge that you're a closet Disney fan on to the right people."

James sighs. _Spies._

"So, what you're suggesting is that I should spend more time with my colleagues with the express intention of learning embarrassing personal details about them to use as blackmail later?"

"Exactly. Also, you might find you like it."

"Blackmailing my colleagues?"

Eve gives him a soft fond smile, "Yes, that."

-

He gets letters from Madeleine every now and again. Long and rambling things that talk about her patients and her childhood and whether or not she should change her name to make doubly sure Spectre can't ruin her life again. She never mentions their relationship - never asks how James is doing and honestly, James likes it that way.

He responds every now and again with tacky postcards he picks up on missions.

He likes to imagine Madeleine has them tacked up somewhere in her bedroom.

-

James is somewhere in Croatia when Q finally starts to warm up to him again. Well, when Q stops trying to passive - aggressively torment him and starts treating him like a person rather than an obligation again.

It's not supposed to be a messy mission; it's supposed to be a straight forward interception of explosive materials going from the hands of the reasonably dangerous to the _actually_ dangerous but sods law comes in to play and James ends up in a rather sticky situation.

"Q," he breathes into his handset. "How'd do you feel about talking me through defusing a bomb?"

It's 4.am. in Britain but Q sounds wide awake, "Well, it's not going to be my bodily fluids all over the walls, is it?"

He talks James through defusing the thing and James, miraculously, doesn't end up spattered all over the compound walls which is nice and he when he thanks Q there's a very pause before Q sighs and says, "You're welcome. Now, do _try_ not to get yourself killed on the way home."

It's _almost_ fond.

-

Franz breaks out eventually, surprising no one. Unlike Silva though, he goes through more official channels and has himself declared innocent by a judge and jury. Everyone is very gentle with James after it happens and Q insists on setting up extra security measures in James' flat in case Franz decides to do something awful to him there.

He needn't have worried because Franz is apparently perfectly content with sending James bizarre and obscene text messages every now and again and in a very, very odd way it _does_ feel like having a slightly unhinged older brother.

"Right," Tanner says, when James lets that little nugget slip one evening. "Well, I'm have your psych eval moved up."

M also orders that James be tracked and monitored round the clock just in case, which means Q gets to spend half an hour or so jabbing James with needles and kitting him out with cool equipment. By now, Q is back to making odd jokes and looking happy to see James most days but right now, he just wants Q to hurry up so he can get going.

"Get going where," Q asks, "M's grounded you, you know and if you think I'm about to let you slip again - "

"Madeleine," James explains. "I've got to make sure she's alright."

The effect is instantaneous, Q's face falls then goes blank. He draws himself up slowly and James thinks _oh_ and _bugger_ and _I can't deal with **that** right now_ all at once.

Q's mouth goes thin, "I see. Well, who am I to stand in the way of true love?" And he's not even _trying_ not to sound bitter except that he regrets the words as soon as he's said them and splutters out a small apology that James waves off.

 _Fuck,_ James thinks. Just, _fuck._

-

He's slept with Q once or twice, almost always in the bleary, adrenaline-fuelled post-mission haze.

(Except that first time after M's funeral, desperate and sloppy in an office somewhere.)

He's just never figured it meant anything.

-

Madeleine is long gone by the time James gets to her rooms in the hospital.

The phone is ringing and for one, heart seizing moment James is sure he's going to pick it up and hear Franz giggling on the other end of the line, " _Game over, Cuckoo._ " Instead, he picks it up and Madeleine laughs at his ragged breathing.

"You thought I would wait around for you to lead them right to me again? And I thought you knew me," she says and _god,_ he loves her.

"You're brilliant," he tells her.

"I know," she sounds proud. "And I'm safe. Don't worry about me, James. Take care of yourself."

He's just about to get on a flight back to London when Eve phones him, "Bond," she starts and James sighs, "Yes, yes. I've been a very naughty boy and M is disappointed. I'm on my way back now if you'd just - "

"No," she cuts him off and James has never, _ever_ heard her voice like that.

James' mouth goes dry, "What's happened?"

"It's Q," Eve says. "He's taken Q."

-

The whole thing ends with Q shaking and covered in blood (thankfully, mostly other people's blood -though Q is quick to point out that that is in _no_ way preferable - ) while Franz laughs at them from a safe distance and makes his escape.

In his ear piece Eve is _sobbing_ (and she will kill him if ever tells anyone that) with relief and Q is a warm, live weight against him. Q turns to press his face to James' neck and James

"You know," Q breathes, mostly into James' ear, "I feel like he suits you in a brotherly way."

James huffs out a laugh, " _Step-_ brother," he reminds Q gently.

"Yeah," Q mumbles tiredly.

James turns his head to press a kiss to Q's forehead and tells himself its just relief their Quartermaster is still alive. After all, Eve and M and Tanner would have _dismembered_ him if he came back empty handed.

(And James _shudders_ to think what they'd do to Franz.)

-

"So," Eve begins, dropping into the little plastic hospital chair beside him. "Your brother seems to have some ideas about you and Q."

" _Step_ brother," James sighs because it's been a really, _really_ fucking long week and he tilts his head back against the wall, " _Q_ seems to have some ideas about me and Q."

Eve makes a soft noise, "Yeah."

James looks over at her, "You knew?"

Eve nods and smiles James' favourite smile, the one that's soft and warm and bright and reminds James that Eve could still have a life outside of this chaos, "Of course I did. _God,_ that boy can pine." She must have decided that James also has ideas about himself and Q because then she fixes him with a terrifying stare and says, "I just want to remind you that I not only know where you live _and_ have keys to your house, but I could also ruin your career with a keystroke."

James sits forward, "Are you giving me the "if you hurt him..." speech?"

Eve grins at him dangerously, "Was that not obvious?"

-

James doesn't see Q again until he's back at work and he's had a week and a half to try and untangle the mess of wires and feelings in his head and come up with something coherent to say (because Eve has told him that in no uncertain terms is he to do a runner; she will find him and make him pay.)

He's not even aware that Q's back at work yet (in fact, he's fairly certain Q shouldn't be, judging by how gingerly he's doing things) so he really can't be blamed for being caught unawares.

Q looks up from his laptop, "What can I do for you, double-oh-seven?" There's a slight flush to his cheeks that James could definitely blame on the space heater by his desk but his inner Eve isn't a fan of that denial.

"I've got an undercover op," James says, striding across the room towards him. "I need some covert weapons that might actually last this time."

Q rolls his eyes, "Things would last longer if you didn't keep jumping out of windows with them."

James stops just short of Q's desk, "That's oddly poetic."

"Mm, practical advice that could be applied to all areas of your life," he's typing something intently.

"Well, I don't recall jumping out of a window with you," James says quietly.

Q doesn't look up, " _Yet."_

"Q," James says gently.

Q looks up at him, long suffering, "Bond."


End file.
